


The Neapolitan Nightmare Affair.

by malfoible



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:06:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5634970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfoible/pseuds/malfoible





	The Neapolitan Nightmare Affair.

They had been chasing and racing round the streets of Naples and the surrounding area, for three days.

Lack of sleep and a shortage of clues had left them weary and annoyed.

When they finally caught the criminal gang who had kidnapped a leading scientist, Solo had left most of the fighting to his partner.  
Tiredness, together with the heat, had given more power to the rage deep within Illya and he had soon dealt with the gang.  
Solo ensuring their cooperation, holding his gun pointed at the fallen, broken, bodies.

Back at the hotel, too tired even to eat, Napoleon had fallen into a deep, deep, sleep. 

He had been conscious enough to put his gun under his pillow as usual, only worried that if he twitched through the night he might blow his ear off.

He was awoken some hours later by shouting and yelling coming from the adjoining room.  
Carrying his gun, he slid open Illya’s door wondering what he would find.

The Russian was shouting and thrashing round in the bed, totally alone.  
Obviously he was having a nightmare.  
Solo moved nearer the bed and spoke gently.  
” Illya” he reached out a hand to tap his partner on the shoulder. 

Illya unnerved, grabbed Solo by the throat and threw him down onto the bed, and pinned him down sitting on his legs.  
He pulled back his arm to aim a blow.

Solo shouted louder. ”Peril, Peril, it’s me, come on wake up you’re having a bad dream that’s all. Just a dream.”

Realisation washed over Illya and he relaxed his arm.

“You should not sneak up on people Cowboy, I might kill you next time.”

Solo lifted his hands to push him off but Illya caught them and held them over his head with one of his own.  
He was sitting astride his partner and leaned forward to tease him.  
He ran his free hand down Napoleon’s chest and teased his nipples.  
Solo’s eyes darkened with desire, Illya noticed.

“Is this what you came in for? Is this what you want? Me pinning you down? What else would you like me to do to you?”

He slid his hands lower down to the top of Solo’s pyjamas.

“Would you like me to use my tongue to give you pleasure? Do you want my fingers inside you? Something else?” 

Solo struggled, then realised Illya was hard too, pressing down on him, feeling him grow and throb.

Solo reached for Ilya’s head pulling it down for a bruising kiss.  
The kiss ignited something in each of them, electricity surged back and forth as tongues clashed, thrusting and sucking, fighting for dominance….

 

The telephone rang out, loud and insistent.

Illya lifted his head. “Later, Amore Mio." 

 

Solo was woken by shouting and yelling from the adjoining room.  
He shook his head to clear it, that was some dream.

He entered Illya’s room and found him alone, yelling, having a nightmare.  
He hesitated at the doorstep, if he went to the bed and this played out as in the dream, was he ready?  
Was he ready for Illya to find out?  
To find out what Solo’s feelings were?  
What if Illya didn’t feel the same?  
What if he was angry?  
What if he ruined this strange partnership before it really began?

He paused, then moved closer to the bed speaking louder this time, giving Illya the chance to wake before he got too close.  
“Peril, Peril, come on it’s me, wake up, you’re having a dream, that’s all, only a dream.”

The Russian sat up in the bed and looked at his partner, his eyes glazed, then filling with recognition.  
“Cowboy!!! It was you in the dream….we were…we were…and it was… good…”  
Only the darkness spared his blushes…

Solo looked at him and walked forwards…a risk worth taking…

“It will be far, far, better when we’re both awake.”

 

Many, many hours later.

Solo rolled over to face his partner propping himself up on one elbow, Illya’s face was the happiest and most relaxed he had ever seen.  
He smiled down at his lover, something still puzzling him about the dream…

“Do you speak Italian?”

“Niet.”


End file.
